I feel so horrible today! I don't even know. It seems like I should be happy too! It's a lovely day, not humid at all, and it's that sort of golden late-summer afternoon that would be the dream of any aspiring Romantic poet. My classes were wonderful today, and I actually struggled for a minute or two in logic, and I got to talk to Delightful Devin again. We're doing romantic opera now, and romantic literature to boot, so that's another fabulous thing right there. I'm in the library, which as we all know is my favorite place in the whole state (except possibly the airport, when it's preparing me to go home), and no one's tried to talk to me. I don't even look completely hideous! It seems like everything should be sugar and roses, doesn't it? But it's not. I feel like crying, and I can't, and it's terrible. I don't really cry much, you know, only about things that don't matter, like Supernatural and poetry and music and an Ingres portrait one time when I was on my period and hadn't slept for a week (okay, that's a lot of stuff, isn't it), but even then, I don't know how to cry. My eyes get all wet, but I don't make any sound, and I just sit there sniffling to myself and looking gross. Even when I left for OSU and was bawling all the way to the airport, I didn't make noise; I just had tears streaming down my face (seemingly never-endingly), and everyone was looking at me pityingly, but I couldn't do anything to stop myself. I felt like a faucet. It was very stressful. But anyway, where was I going with this? Oh, yes. So, I really don't know how to cry, and I feel like I'm missing out on something very cathartic. I think it would be nice to throw myself dramatically onto the ground, or a chaise lounge or something, and just have a good ole tear-fest. And then afterwards, I could happily eat ice cream and go about my business. But actually, no, I would feel really stupid and self-indulgent if I did that, so it's probably better not to. I hate dealing with my feelings, you know? It's so much easier to be flippant and perky all the time and not acknowledge anything that goes on underneath. That makes me shallow, doesn't it. Well, okay, it's not that I don't have feelings, I get angry and embarrassed and sad and everything, just like everyone else, but I don't give voice to anything but my Daisy Buchanan-slash-Rococo attitude. Or when I'm in public or feeling awkward, it's my valley-girl-asshole attitude. But either way, it's pretty substance-less. I have problems, I know, but it's all right. I think if I ever expressed an emotion other than bubbly joy, it would create such a rift in time and space that everyone would hate me forever. Not that they don't already, probably, but you see what I'm saying, don't you? I can't bring myself to ask someone to take care of me, cuz that's for everyone else (although if I'm going to be honest with myself, that's all I want right now), and I can't take any dramatic measures to care for myself, because I feel stupid and lazy and hedonistic and even worse in the long run. So overall, it's a pretty terrible hole into which I've dug myself! Ugh. Even now, I feel whiny talking about this. But why do I always have to be the caretaker? Isn't it okay for me to ask for something once in a while? Or is that not what a virtuous life is about? I don't know, and I don't think I'll ever figure it out. I'm probably going to turn into an emotionally closed-off person with mountains of insecurities and anxiety and a despairing outlook on everything. Oh, wait a minute there...
I'm so sick of people, oh my goodness. I know I've been talking about the stress of being in the public eye ever since I got here, but I think it's really starting to wear on me. I hate having to walk around feeling awkward, terrified, or both, without any peace at any time, until late at night when everyone's asleep, and sometimes not even then. I hate not being able to eat (I've lost several inches off my hips, which to be honest, I don't need, and this guy asked me if I was sick because I'm so skinny and pale), and I hate not being able to sleep because late at night is the only time I have to relax, and I'm not giving that up, no way. I'm also really, really tired of everyone looking at me like I'm the harlot of Babylon because of how I look. Yes, I should be used to it by now, but it was never so blatant or rude as it is now, even when I was going through my half-naked phase in 9th grade. Let's be real here, I dress rather conservatively most of the time. I wear skirts and dresses with cardigans and flats, and I look like I've just come from teaching Sunday School more often than not. I guess my skirts are sometimes short, but I'm short, okay, do you want me to look like a hobbit? And some of my outfits are a little more revealing (like my pink lace dress), but they're not bad, really. I'm so tired of walking by people who look at me and glare or giggle and then talk about me as I walk away. I mean, it seems like it shouldn't be a big deal, but when you don't get any kind or non-judgemental glances from anyone all day, it's kind of a drag. I know what you're saying, "Jasmine, you cishet privileged asshole, welcome to the real world! Who's getting served now, bitch?" And I suppose you're right. I do deserve this. But that doesn't mean I can't complain about it. I'm just tired of people judging or looking down on me, you know? It's been this way all my life, and it seems like I must have atoned for the sin of being born by now! I sound so whiny, what's wrong with me? Ugh.
Now, on the other side of the spectrum, there's the problem that people sometimes like what they see when they look at me, and by people, I mean guys, and it's going to sound even worse when I talk about this, but I'm going to anyway, and you can't stop me. So, let me tell you, it might seem like it's flattering to get hit on and cat-called all the time, and I suppose it is to some extent, but it's also creepy, and really, really, annoying. I can't walk anywhere without people going, "You're beautiful!" or "Hey hottie!" or "You're so cute, isn't she cute, look guys!" or something of that nature, whether I'm by myself or not. And you might think it's nice to hear such positive affirmation after feeling the cold, judgmental stares of everyone else all day, but it's really not. I know it's just a matter of time until someone tries to assault me, and everyone will blame me, because hurr durr, pretty girl, nicely dressed, must have been asking for it, right? It's really frightening. I don't know if I'd be able to fight anyone off, either, because I'm five feet tall, and full of nothing but flab and useless pedantic knowledge, and my twelve-year-old brother can pick me up if he cares to. I know tae-kwon-do, yes, but I honestly don't think it would be enough. I'm frankly scared all the time, and I don't want people to notice me. Judge me all you want, but who wants to be assaulted? Now, it's not just this either, although this is bad enough. See, there's this guy in my opera class who won't leave me alone now. And it's SO annoying. I try to answer his texts in ways that won't further the conversation, but he keeps on going. Sometimes, I don't reply, but this doesn't prevent him from sloughing off. Nope, our dear friend just comes back with something else. I'm losing my mind. I feel bad for being annoyed, because he's a cute Korean exchange student, and he's all polite and sweet and stuff, and he genuinely seems to want to talk to me, but man, my poor ole nerves are getting more and more frayed every time he texts me! Ugh. I'm a horrible person. I accept it, though. I'm substanceless, remember?
So, I felt terribly terrible, and I decided that I don't even care anymore, so I did the opposite of what I said I couldn't do and texted Austin to see if he would cheer me up. And he did! The darling. ♥ He didn't act like he hated me for being an emotional gravyboat, and he was so sweet and caring, and I just, I dunno. How am I so incredibly lucky to have him in my life? He's wonderful, and he makes my life here so much better. But I miss him a lot. It's really a sad situation. Whenever I see happy couples walking around campus, I get jealous of them, and then I feel weird, because I don't get jealous often. But man, it's not fair, they're so happy, and I'm so alone! Well, not really alone. Just not with the person I want to be with the most. But that's close enough.
Blehh, it's already almost 9:30, and the library closes at midnight. What am I going to do? I don't want to go back to the room and hang out with Melissa and other-Melissa! Oh, did I write about that? I don't think I did! I was too busy feeling sorry for myself! Okay, so Melissa has invited her friend over from Penn State (or one of those schools) to spend the night here. Her name is Gillian (or something, I'm afraid I can't really recall), and she doesn't know what linguistics is. I'm terrified of her. What am I going to do? I was planning to stay here at the library until it closes, and then stay out a little later, but then they might think I was avoiding them, and I would feel so rude! So maybe I should go back now. But then I would have to stay in there for several hours until it became okay for me to go to bed! When is it okay to go to bed? I usually stay up until three, so maybe they would think something was amiss if I didn't! But then again, I could pretend to be sick. And I really do need my sleep. So then I could just go to bed early and have a lovely night and not get up embarrassingly late tomorrow! No one got ahold of me for a ride to church tomorrow, and I feel really bad about this, but would it be so bad if I skipped a week? I'm so overwhelmed and tired of dealing with people, and every week is horrible because I have to go to someone's house and stay there all afternoon, surrounded by strangers, and by the time I get back, it's about 6:00 and too late to take a nap, and I'm tired the rest of the week. Sabbath is supposed to be a day of rest, and I feel like it wouldn't be too bad if I had worship on my own and watched University church online. Would it? I don't know! Maybe it would be good for networking if I went to church. But I'm so exhausted of all energy and inclination to deal with people! Well, with unknown people, I mean. If I were at home, I would love to go out with my friends all the time. What's wrong with me? Who am I turning into? My anxiety was never this bad before. I think it's been getting worse all through high school, and now it's bloomed fully. At least, I hope it's bloomed fully. I definitely don't want it to get worse.
Oh dear, the library closes in half an hour, apparently. I thought it closed at midnight, though! Oh dear. Well, I guess I'll go, then. My laptop is dying anyway. I tried to bring my charger, but it didn't work. Okay, so here I go, ready to walk across campus by myself. If I die, just remember that I was driven to it by Melissa's cursed gregariousness. All right, bye now!
Friday, September 27, 2013
Wednesday, September 25, 2013
Do you ever think about the meaninglessness of life?
That was a really weird opener, and I fear it's set up the wrong precedent for now until hereafter, but I don't mean anything funny by it. I just mean– do you ever think about the meaninglessness of life. I do, quite often. I'm not depressed, and I don't think about it in a despairing way, I just ponder it. And it's a really good topic to ponder. Because, if you think about it, life really is fairly meaningless. There's nothing in it to look forward to, really, not in the end. The path of honor leads but to the grave; we leave college, we go to grad school, we get careers (hopefully), and we die. Maybe we get married in there somewhere, raise a family, all that, and maybe we make it to retirement, but other than that, there's not much deviation from the course. What chance is there to create something lasting that would make life worthwhile? I've always wanted to set something in history that would transcend my own mortality, but as I'm growing older and less idealistic, I'm starting to think that that isn't really possible. I have no skill that would guarantee me a place on the scroll of true and honored fame, and I'm skeptical that I'll ever achieve enough success in my field to grant me even the sparest mention anywhere. I'm not going to leave a mark on the world, and I'm not going to impact it in any way, so what exactly is the point of my being here? I am useless in the grand scheme of things, and in the not-so grand scheme of things as well. I mean, let's think this through here. I am a financial burden on my family, more so now that I'm going to school here, and I'm a burden on the people around me in that they have to give me rides and talk to me and all. Opposite of helping the world. I'm being a detriment to it. And that's not good, is it? The world doesn't need more detritus. All my life, I'd hoped I would grow up to be something powerful, something amazing, something that would set off a light that generations would see for years to come. When I was in middle school, I thought for sure, high school would be the place. When I messed up my life in high school, I thought college would be the place. And now that I'm here– what? What am I here for? Am I just going to be an extra burden on my family for another four years? Am I going to take away chances for Kitty and Sungmin just because of my ambition and pride? I'm not achieving anything special. I'm not anything special, period. So what am I doing? I'm not going to kill myself or anything, of course, I'm just trying to figure out why I'm alive and what I'm doing with my life, since I am. You know, I thought that college would be my tabula rasa, I even optimistically professed that opinion back in one of these entries. But it's not. I haven't overcome myself. I'm still just the same, old, pathetic, Jasmine. I'll never be good enough, and that's the depressing truth. Maybe I'll live my life in mediocrity, if I'm lucky, and that's nothing to live for. So, I suppose, the question is what is the meaning of life now? What's the point of my existence? I'm not happy, not really, and I don't think I ever will be. Oh dear, let's back that up a second. I've gotten over my depression, and I'm not the chronically unhappy, suicidal, person I was before, and let's be clear about that. I don't go through my life feeling sad, or numb, or anything like that, and often I do have moments of clear joy, but they're just moments. They're not connected or cohesive, and I know they're not going to last. I know happiness isn't a big, dramatic, fanfare; it's a quiet realization that everything's all right (or something of that nature), but I think you would know if you were happy. And you wouldn't think about death without aversion. I'm not afraid to die. I don't want to go, and I'd do anything (within reason) to prevent it, but when the time comes, I won't be afraid to face whatever it is that's on the other side. Yes, I'm afraid of the dying part, I'm petrified of the pain, but aside from that, there's nothing there to scare me. How did I get so morbid? I don't know! I didn't intend for this discussion to take a dark turn. I guess I'm just venting my problems, since there's no one whom I can talk to about these things.
What is happiness anyway? I mentioned it, but maybe I don't actually know. Is anyone really, truly, happy? Anyone who saw me would think I was. There isn't anything to me, really, just sunshine and daisies, and sunshine and daisies aren't unhappy at all. Is happiness one's appearance? I'm not talking about smiling all the time, or telling flippant jokes, or dancing through the halls of the dorm while rehearsing an acapella version of Build Me Up, Buttercup. There are a lot of perfectly happy people who don't do those things. No, I mean the sort of inner peace you can see in even the most taciturn souls sometimes. These people seem perfectly content with everything. They don't flutter around crying when they read Milton or hear Variations on a Theme by Corelli. They don't feel as if they want to break down and give in to sheer and utter panic when they spend too much time with strangers. And they especially don't starve themselves because they're too afraid to get food or eat around people. But is that happiness, or is that normalcy? At this point, I think I'd take either one.
I want ice cream. I want to eat a whole tub of mint chocolate chip ice cream and listen to Wagner and cry. And I want Austin to come over and cuddle with me and rub my back (cuz I'm soooo sore). But lacking this, I'd give a chunk of my hair for a piece of schoolwork that was slightly challenging or a person who could discuss something meaningful with me. I talked about a truth table with Delightful Devin in logic today, and it was the best five minutes I'd had all day. Actually, that whole class is the best part of my day. I look forward to it, because it's the only class in which I'm sure of some mental stimulation. Yes, I learn things in my other classes, and yes, I like them a lot, but the breakdown is always something like 10% explanation and 90% rehash for what seems like every other person in the class. Orchestra is like that too. And my humanities scholars class is nothing but self-satisfied back-patting, as I'm sure I've already mentioned. So yeah! Nothing much there! I know I'm being whiny, but you know when you're complaining about something, every other complaint comes out too. I'm bored, plain and simple, and I'm not paying 18000 dollars a year to be bored.
I wish I could take more classes. I wish I didn't have to max out at 18 credits. I wish I didn't have to take my stupid survey class and my stupid humanities class. And I wish the people at this nationally-reknowned university were smarter than the kids at my high school. I'm going to die of the lack of intellectual companionship. I know I sound horribly conceited and egotistical right now, but objectively speaking, these people are pretty dim, and there's nothing they or I can do to sugarcoat the situation. Oh dear, I think placing out of calculus has gone to my head. I feel like I'm smart now. Phooey on everything! Man, I want ice cream.
Another thing! One of the few pleasures I have in this college life is going to the library between classes and reading a little bit from whichever book suits my fancy at the moment. But I'm having such a hard time doing that, because I'm so horribly shy and terrified of people that I can't bring myself to read anything around them! I feel like they'll judge me. Reading a book in the library? Oh goodness. Try to contain your screams of shock, ladies. It will be all right. No, but really, a lot of people don't go there to read, or even to study, so I feel weird when I do it. Whenever I see someone coming, I whip out my phone and pretend to text so they'll think I'm just some bubble-headed valley girl and will judge me on that account and not as a person. I know this doesn't make sense, but it's my best defense mechanism. I do it quite often. I think I talked about it before; when I'm out in public by myself, I put on my bug-eye sunglasses and text conspicuously and drink my Starbucks and flash around my cleavage and act like the opposite of myself, just so I won't break down. Yeah, it doesn't make sense, I'm silly, I know. Got that. But it's so annoying to have to pause in the middle of my Moliere and pull out my phone to text some random person back! It's even worse when I'm reading poetry. It's like I'm in another world, and then I'm pulled back to the pedestrian present for no reason but my stupid social anxiety. I HATE IT SO MUCH. During Thanksgiving break, when everyone's gone, I hope the library is still open, because I want to go there and read all by myself. It would be perfect. ♥
Bless me, this was a really long and rambling and very
depressing entry! I should probably not write stuff like this in the future in case my self-pity gets too out of hand. But I feel a lot better now! That was strangely cathartic. All right, goodnight now!
That was a really weird opener, and I fear it's set up the wrong precedent for now until hereafter, but I don't mean anything funny by it. I just mean– do you ever think about the meaninglessness of life. I do, quite often. I'm not depressed, and I don't think about it in a despairing way, I just ponder it. And it's a really good topic to ponder. Because, if you think about it, life really is fairly meaningless. There's nothing in it to look forward to, really, not in the end. The path of honor leads but to the grave; we leave college, we go to grad school, we get careers (hopefully), and we die. Maybe we get married in there somewhere, raise a family, all that, and maybe we make it to retirement, but other than that, there's not much deviation from the course. What chance is there to create something lasting that would make life worthwhile? I've always wanted to set something in history that would transcend my own mortality, but as I'm growing older and less idealistic, I'm starting to think that that isn't really possible. I have no skill that would guarantee me a place on the scroll of true and honored fame, and I'm skeptical that I'll ever achieve enough success in my field to grant me even the sparest mention anywhere. I'm not going to leave a mark on the world, and I'm not going to impact it in any way, so what exactly is the point of my being here? I am useless in the grand scheme of things, and in the not-so grand scheme of things as well. I mean, let's think this through here. I am a financial burden on my family, more so now that I'm going to school here, and I'm a burden on the people around me in that they have to give me rides and talk to me and all. Opposite of helping the world. I'm being a detriment to it. And that's not good, is it? The world doesn't need more detritus. All my life, I'd hoped I would grow up to be something powerful, something amazing, something that would set off a light that generations would see for years to come. When I was in middle school, I thought for sure, high school would be the place. When I messed up my life in high school, I thought college would be the place. And now that I'm here– what? What am I here for? Am I just going to be an extra burden on my family for another four years? Am I going to take away chances for Kitty and Sungmin just because of my ambition and pride? I'm not achieving anything special. I'm not anything special, period. So what am I doing? I'm not going to kill myself or anything, of course, I'm just trying to figure out why I'm alive and what I'm doing with my life, since I am. You know, I thought that college would be my tabula rasa, I even optimistically professed that opinion back in one of these entries. But it's not. I haven't overcome myself. I'm still just the same, old, pathetic, Jasmine. I'll never be good enough, and that's the depressing truth. Maybe I'll live my life in mediocrity, if I'm lucky, and that's nothing to live for. So, I suppose, the question is what is the meaning of life now? What's the point of my existence? I'm not happy, not really, and I don't think I ever will be. Oh dear, let's back that up a second. I've gotten over my depression, and I'm not the chronically unhappy, suicidal, person I was before, and let's be clear about that. I don't go through my life feeling sad, or numb, or anything like that, and often I do have moments of clear joy, but they're just moments. They're not connected or cohesive, and I know they're not going to last. I know happiness isn't a big, dramatic, fanfare; it's a quiet realization that everything's all right (or something of that nature), but I think you would know if you were happy. And you wouldn't think about death without aversion. I'm not afraid to die. I don't want to go, and I'd do anything (within reason) to prevent it, but when the time comes, I won't be afraid to face whatever it is that's on the other side. Yes, I'm afraid of the dying part, I'm petrified of the pain, but aside from that, there's nothing there to scare me. How did I get so morbid? I don't know! I didn't intend for this discussion to take a dark turn. I guess I'm just venting my problems, since there's no one whom I can talk to about these things.
What is happiness anyway? I mentioned it, but maybe I don't actually know. Is anyone really, truly, happy? Anyone who saw me would think I was. There isn't anything to me, really, just sunshine and daisies, and sunshine and daisies aren't unhappy at all. Is happiness one's appearance? I'm not talking about smiling all the time, or telling flippant jokes, or dancing through the halls of the dorm while rehearsing an acapella version of Build Me Up, Buttercup. There are a lot of perfectly happy people who don't do those things. No, I mean the sort of inner peace you can see in even the most taciturn souls sometimes. These people seem perfectly content with everything. They don't flutter around crying when they read Milton or hear Variations on a Theme by Corelli. They don't feel as if they want to break down and give in to sheer and utter panic when they spend too much time with strangers. And they especially don't starve themselves because they're too afraid to get food or eat around people. But is that happiness, or is that normalcy? At this point, I think I'd take either one.
I want ice cream. I want to eat a whole tub of mint chocolate chip ice cream and listen to Wagner and cry. And I want Austin to come over and cuddle with me and rub my back (cuz I'm soooo sore). But lacking this, I'd give a chunk of my hair for a piece of schoolwork that was slightly challenging or a person who could discuss something meaningful with me. I talked about a truth table with Delightful Devin in logic today, and it was the best five minutes I'd had all day. Actually, that whole class is the best part of my day. I look forward to it, because it's the only class in which I'm sure of some mental stimulation. Yes, I learn things in my other classes, and yes, I like them a lot, but the breakdown is always something like 10% explanation and 90% rehash for what seems like every other person in the class. Orchestra is like that too. And my humanities scholars class is nothing but self-satisfied back-patting, as I'm sure I've already mentioned. So yeah! Nothing much there! I know I'm being whiny, but you know when you're complaining about something, every other complaint comes out too. I'm bored, plain and simple, and I'm not paying 18000 dollars a year to be bored.
I wish I could take more classes. I wish I didn't have to max out at 18 credits. I wish I didn't have to take my stupid survey class and my stupid humanities class. And I wish the people at this nationally-reknowned university were smarter than the kids at my high school. I'm going to die of the lack of intellectual companionship. I know I sound horribly conceited and egotistical right now, but objectively speaking, these people are pretty dim, and there's nothing they or I can do to sugarcoat the situation. Oh dear, I think placing out of calculus has gone to my head. I feel like I'm smart now. Phooey on everything! Man, I want ice cream.
Another thing! One of the few pleasures I have in this college life is going to the library between classes and reading a little bit from whichever book suits my fancy at the moment. But I'm having such a hard time doing that, because I'm so horribly shy and terrified of people that I can't bring myself to read anything around them! I feel like they'll judge me. Reading a book in the library? Oh goodness. Try to contain your screams of shock, ladies. It will be all right. No, but really, a lot of people don't go there to read, or even to study, so I feel weird when I do it. Whenever I see someone coming, I whip out my phone and pretend to text so they'll think I'm just some bubble-headed valley girl and will judge me on that account and not as a person. I know this doesn't make sense, but it's my best defense mechanism. I do it quite often. I think I talked about it before; when I'm out in public by myself, I put on my bug-eye sunglasses and text conspicuously and drink my Starbucks and flash around my cleavage and act like the opposite of myself, just so I won't break down. Yeah, it doesn't make sense, I'm silly, I know. Got that. But it's so annoying to have to pause in the middle of my Moliere and pull out my phone to text some random person back! It's even worse when I'm reading poetry. It's like I'm in another world, and then I'm pulled back to the pedestrian present for no reason but my stupid social anxiety. I HATE IT SO MUCH. During Thanksgiving break, when everyone's gone, I hope the library is still open, because I want to go there and read all by myself. It would be perfect. ♥
Bless me, this was a really long and rambling and very
depressing entry! I should probably not write stuff like this in the future in case my self-pity gets too out of hand. But I feel a lot better now! That was strangely cathartic. All right, goodnight now!
Monday, September 16, 2013
Procrastination, really
Look at this lovely exchange.
Austin: But I want to go to dinner with you!
Me: Nah tho, you would be so traumatized that you would run away to sea :P
Austin: I think you'd be traumatized to sea me eat actually ;D
Me: I have seen you eat! It didn't produce any unhappy em-oceans in me!
Austin: When I'm eating at my messiest, to be Pacific.
Me: Beach please, I can eat more grossly than you can under-sand.
Austin: No really, I just gulf everything down.
Me: But I'm so messy... I wouldn't be surprised if Island face first in my food someday.
Austin: You should eat with me, if you canal be your bffl
Me: I think that might provoke some in-clam-ent problems :P
Austin: I accept you for who you are, you sea.
Me: Aww. You seal-y, I don't know if you want to say such an unshellfish thing around me!
Austin: Whale you know I'm dolphinately yours until the rivers all run dry ♥
Me: Babe, my heart is an open brook to you ♥
Austin: I may stream to play it cool sometimes, but the truth is that I'm crazy for you ♥
Austin: I spend my day pond-ering ways to make you smile :)
Me: Aww, I lake everything about you :D
Austin: But I'm such a pool :(
Me: But you're my pool, and what I fish for ♥
Austin: You make me so happy, it has me floundering about ♥
Me: You make my heart scallop ♥
Austin: I can never be crabby around you ♥
Me: You're my golden star-fish!
Austin: I wish I had bigger mussels, then I could be all sexy for you and stuff maybe
Me: You're as beautiful as a seascape; don't cl-oyster yourself away!
Austin: You make me want to be a betta person :)
Me: I know you've heard this anemany times, but you're so perfect already!
Austin: How can I feel perfect when my girlfriend is a mermaid among a sea of guppies
Me: You are perfect though, you're the lamprey of sunshine in my life and you know it!
Austin: My heart feels like a whirlpool when I think of you :)
Me: I will shower you with love everyday :D speaking of which, I probably should go shower.
Isn't he lovely? He knows I like wordplay, so he plays with words with me! I appreciate that so highly! Most people won't do that. Not even Francisco. So I just think it's so amazing and wonderful that he's willing to be silly with me. I'm so lucky!
Okay, Jasmine, that's enough. Ugh, I'm going to want to slap myself later when I read this and see how myopic and lovestruck I was. I got it bad, I do!
I'm at the library right now, starting my paper for Lit. It should be fun, I think, but I'm afraid I won't be able to do well! I know I was good at this sort of thing back in AP Lit, but is that enough now? I'm going up against juniors and seniors here, most of them English majors, and I'm sure they can smoke me. What if I don't do well? What if I get something other than an A in an English class? That's the very definition of humiliation. I have to do well, that's all! I'm starting this paper early, so I can work on it through the week and revise it as needed. I got this, I got this. Right?
This library is so packed full of people. Why are these nerds in here? They need to get a life and not be like me! Come on now. I went to the 11th floor, but it was all full, so I went to the 10th floor to see if I could sit in one of the window seats. There was a guy who had two chairs around him, not with his stuff on them or anything, and just sitting there. I thought maybe I could use one of them, since he didn't seem to be, so I went up and asked him if I could have a chair. He looked at me, shook his head, and went "No, no." And off I scuttled, blushing and embarrassed, and feeling as if I really should have stayed in my dorm. Now I'm on my favorite floor, the 9th floor (which is the literature one), and I'm happy in a nice little window seat here, but I feel extraordinarily awkward anyway. Why am I so awkward? I need to grow some balls! You know, this is becoming a problem for me. I asked a question in class today, and afterwards, I was shaking so hard I could barely write. I love the class so much, but I feel like the teacher won't like me because I never talk. This is my logic class, see. So, you know, I'm very adept so far, and I always know what he's talking about and when he asks something, I always know the answer, but I can't make myself say it! Even if the room is in stumped silence and I'm the only one with a clue, I just sit there like an idiot. I try, I really do, but when I open my mouth, nothing comes out. Sometimes, I manage to whisper the answer, and someone near me hears it and repeats it, and the matter is taken care of that way, but often the poor teacher has to explain it all over again, just because I was too weirdly shy to say anything. That's how I was in high school too, but in high school, there was usually someone else to say the answers (except in Lit, but I had no trouble talking in that class). Now it's just me, and I can't do it. I'm so ashamed of myself! Why can I not be normal? I wonder if anyone else in the world is as strange as I am.
Other than that, though, the class is so beautiful. We had to do six proofs for homework last night, three of them normal, and three of them hard. I had no trouble with the three easy ones, but I was missing a step on the three harder ones, and I couldn't quite finish them. I thought I was being stupid, and I was all embarrassed, but then when I got to class, it turned out that they were technically possible, but so un-intuitive that feasibly, they weren't really viable for us at this stage. Then I was proud of myself for getting as far as I did, because I had the right idea, I just hadn't taken it far enough. And everyone else was more stumped than I'd been. In fact, they'd had trouble with the normal proofs too. So I walked out of class feeling powerful and ready to take anyone on. I wish I could have that feeling more often, like when I'm about to get food, or walk past a group of people by myself. That would be nice.
It rained a little bit last night. It was very pleasant! Very soporific, you know, and cozy to hear while lying in bed wrapped up in blankets. It's gotten colder recently, and I'm wearing a sweater now, which feels very collegiate and autumnal, and it's such a welcome change.
Oh, there's a kid in here. Why? He's cute and all, but I hope he doesn't try to talk to me. I'm afraid of children. I will never be a mother. What do you even do with kids? I will be alone in life forever. Oh, but you know, I fear mothers even more than I fear kids. They are always so unfriendly, and they act like they are superior to everyone, and they have no sense of boundaries. This particular mom seems to have some, but in general, moms won't care if their kids climb all over you and pull your hair and whatnot, because it's cute. They're just like dog owners. I don't like people, man, I don't like them at all. I'm going to move to a cave and walk around dispensing Zarathustra-esque advice. Wait, no, then I would have to have followers and all. This is a problem, then!
I have orchestra pretty soon. I should leave in ten minutes. It's at 6:30, but I have to go back to my dorm and drop off Daisy Bell and get my violin and then walk over to the school of music, so I need to leave enough time to do that. I was late to both my classes already today, and I'm not angling for a third. It's so weird to have only three classes per day, it almost seems like I'm not doing anything worthwhile. I would take more classes if I could, but I'm already at 18 credit hours, and I can't add anymore at this point anyway. I guess I am taking eight classes, but it doesn't seem like it. At this point, it probably sounds like I'm looking for things to feel insecure about, so maybe I should stop. I'm going to turn into a truly irritating person soon, if I haven't already. Bleh.
Okay, I should probably pack up and go down soon, so off I go! You can do this, Jasmine. You got this. You are a strong, independent woman who knows the rudiments of propositional logic and who can spell "chiaroscuro," and no one can bring you down! Let's go!
Austin: But I want to go to dinner with you!
Me: Nah tho, you would be so traumatized that you would run away to sea :P
Austin: I think you'd be traumatized to sea me eat actually ;D
Me: I have seen you eat! It didn't produce any unhappy em-oceans in me!
Austin: When I'm eating at my messiest, to be Pacific.
Me: Beach please, I can eat more grossly than you can under-sand.
Austin: No really, I just gulf everything down.
Me: But I'm so messy... I wouldn't be surprised if Island face first in my food someday.
Austin: You should eat with me, if you canal be your bffl
Me: I think that might provoke some in-clam-ent problems :P
Austin: I accept you for who you are, you sea.
Me: Aww. You seal-y, I don't know if you want to say such an unshellfish thing around me!
Austin: Whale you know I'm dolphinately yours until the rivers all run dry ♥
Me: Babe, my heart is an open brook to you ♥
Austin: I may stream to play it cool sometimes, but the truth is that I'm crazy for you ♥
Austin: I spend my day pond-ering ways to make you smile :)
Me: Aww, I lake everything about you :D
Austin: But I'm such a pool :(
Me: But you're my pool, and what I fish for ♥
Austin: You make me so happy, it has me floundering about ♥
Me: You make my heart scallop ♥
Austin: I can never be crabby around you ♥
Me: You're my golden star-fish!
Austin: I wish I had bigger mussels, then I could be all sexy for you and stuff maybe
Me: You're as beautiful as a seascape; don't cl-oyster yourself away!
Austin: You make me want to be a betta person :)
Me: I know you've heard this anemany times, but you're so perfect already!
Austin: How can I feel perfect when my girlfriend is a mermaid among a sea of guppies
Me: You are perfect though, you're the lamprey of sunshine in my life and you know it!
Austin: My heart feels like a whirlpool when I think of you :)
Me: I will shower you with love everyday :D speaking of which, I probably should go shower.
Isn't he lovely? He knows I like wordplay, so he plays with words with me! I appreciate that so highly! Most people won't do that. Not even Francisco. So I just think it's so amazing and wonderful that he's willing to be silly with me. I'm so lucky!
Okay, Jasmine, that's enough. Ugh, I'm going to want to slap myself later when I read this and see how myopic and lovestruck I was. I got it bad, I do!
I'm at the library right now, starting my paper for Lit. It should be fun, I think, but I'm afraid I won't be able to do well! I know I was good at this sort of thing back in AP Lit, but is that enough now? I'm going up against juniors and seniors here, most of them English majors, and I'm sure they can smoke me. What if I don't do well? What if I get something other than an A in an English class? That's the very definition of humiliation. I have to do well, that's all! I'm starting this paper early, so I can work on it through the week and revise it as needed. I got this, I got this. Right?
This library is so packed full of people. Why are these nerds in here? They need to get a life and not be like me! Come on now. I went to the 11th floor, but it was all full, so I went to the 10th floor to see if I could sit in one of the window seats. There was a guy who had two chairs around him, not with his stuff on them or anything, and just sitting there. I thought maybe I could use one of them, since he didn't seem to be, so I went up and asked him if I could have a chair. He looked at me, shook his head, and went "No, no." And off I scuttled, blushing and embarrassed, and feeling as if I really should have stayed in my dorm. Now I'm on my favorite floor, the 9th floor (which is the literature one), and I'm happy in a nice little window seat here, but I feel extraordinarily awkward anyway. Why am I so awkward? I need to grow some balls! You know, this is becoming a problem for me. I asked a question in class today, and afterwards, I was shaking so hard I could barely write. I love the class so much, but I feel like the teacher won't like me because I never talk. This is my logic class, see. So, you know, I'm very adept so far, and I always know what he's talking about and when he asks something, I always know the answer, but I can't make myself say it! Even if the room is in stumped silence and I'm the only one with a clue, I just sit there like an idiot. I try, I really do, but when I open my mouth, nothing comes out. Sometimes, I manage to whisper the answer, and someone near me hears it and repeats it, and the matter is taken care of that way, but often the poor teacher has to explain it all over again, just because I was too weirdly shy to say anything. That's how I was in high school too, but in high school, there was usually someone else to say the answers (except in Lit, but I had no trouble talking in that class). Now it's just me, and I can't do it. I'm so ashamed of myself! Why can I not be normal? I wonder if anyone else in the world is as strange as I am.
Other than that, though, the class is so beautiful. We had to do six proofs for homework last night, three of them normal, and three of them hard. I had no trouble with the three easy ones, but I was missing a step on the three harder ones, and I couldn't quite finish them. I thought I was being stupid, and I was all embarrassed, but then when I got to class, it turned out that they were technically possible, but so un-intuitive that feasibly, they weren't really viable for us at this stage. Then I was proud of myself for getting as far as I did, because I had the right idea, I just hadn't taken it far enough. And everyone else was more stumped than I'd been. In fact, they'd had trouble with the normal proofs too. So I walked out of class feeling powerful and ready to take anyone on. I wish I could have that feeling more often, like when I'm about to get food, or walk past a group of people by myself. That would be nice.
It rained a little bit last night. It was very pleasant! Very soporific, you know, and cozy to hear while lying in bed wrapped up in blankets. It's gotten colder recently, and I'm wearing a sweater now, which feels very collegiate and autumnal, and it's such a welcome change.
Oh, there's a kid in here. Why? He's cute and all, but I hope he doesn't try to talk to me. I'm afraid of children. I will never be a mother. What do you even do with kids? I will be alone in life forever. Oh, but you know, I fear mothers even more than I fear kids. They are always so unfriendly, and they act like they are superior to everyone, and they have no sense of boundaries. This particular mom seems to have some, but in general, moms won't care if their kids climb all over you and pull your hair and whatnot, because it's cute. They're just like dog owners. I don't like people, man, I don't like them at all. I'm going to move to a cave and walk around dispensing Zarathustra-esque advice. Wait, no, then I would have to have followers and all. This is a problem, then!
I have orchestra pretty soon. I should leave in ten minutes. It's at 6:30, but I have to go back to my dorm and drop off Daisy Bell and get my violin and then walk over to the school of music, so I need to leave enough time to do that. I was late to both my classes already today, and I'm not angling for a third. It's so weird to have only three classes per day, it almost seems like I'm not doing anything worthwhile. I would take more classes if I could, but I'm already at 18 credit hours, and I can't add anymore at this point anyway. I guess I am taking eight classes, but it doesn't seem like it. At this point, it probably sounds like I'm looking for things to feel insecure about, so maybe I should stop. I'm going to turn into a truly irritating person soon, if I haven't already. Bleh.
Okay, I should probably pack up and go down soon, so off I go! You can do this, Jasmine. You got this. You are a strong, independent woman who knows the rudiments of propositional logic and who can spell "chiaroscuro," and no one can bring you down! Let's go!
Sunday, September 8, 2013
Sundays with Jasmine
That title was an allusion to the book Tuesdays with Morrie, by the way. I haven't actually read it, but I've heard copious praise of it from Austin, so I feel like it's an old friend at this point.
Blehhh, speaking of which, I miss my Austin so much. I made the mistake of downloading Next Year, which is the first sing he sang to me, and now I can't listen to it without getting sad. I also listened to I Don't Wanna Miss a Thing and all these other songs and now I'm all melancholy. I feel really sappy, but what can you do? I'm listening to Carry On Wayward Son now; hopefully that will put me into a better frame of mind so I can go take care of the errands I need to do without wandering along in a gloomy haze, absent-mindedly singing Two Door Cinema Club to myself, and getting weird looks from everyone around me, which I will ignore because I will be so lost in my malaise. I feel like that might garner a bit of Durko-hood here, and that's something I definitely don't need.
Okay, when this song is done, I'll go out and mail my checks, and be productive. I guess Melissa will just have to find her own way into our room, because I sure as shootin' ain't gonna leave it unlocked like she does. I have a lot of stuff in here, and I don't want to have any of it stolen, you feel me? I mean, how would I live without my Daisy Bell? And my violin is pretty important. And okay, what if some destitute wrangler decided to come in and help herself to all my panties so she wouldn't have to buy her own? That wouldn't be a very good turn of events. It would make me feel like quite the scarlet woman to go about campus with nothing between me and the breeze.
Okay, I'm back! I went out to do my errand, and then I decided to explore the math building on the way back to my dorm. Let me tell you, it's quite the magical place (or should I say "mathical?"), replete with graphs built into the floor tiles and a marble sculpture of a Fibonacci spiral in the foyer. It was almost completely deserted, though, so it was a little scary to walk around in there by myself, even though I did have my key in my hand to puncture the puncturable parts of anyone who tried to accost me. I wish I'd been able to bring my pocket knife with me on the plane. It would have made me feel safer. Walking around by myself is quite the scary ordeal, I'll have you know, and though I've been hit on too many times to count and have walked away to tell the tale, I'm always sure that each time I go out carelessly will be my last. I don't think I would feel as nervous if I were at a different school, but this one is known for its animalistic football players, and I'm never sure who has good intentions and who doesn't. Man, I gotta get me a cannon. Then I can wheel it around with me wherever I go, and no one will dare to come close to me. Everyone can call me Jasmine the Cannon or The Loose Cannon or Cannon in D(efeat), or something witty like that, and I will gain the respect of everyone on campus. But in the meantime, I just carry my key with me, and hope that I can protect myself with it.
I sliced my finger open on Friday. It was very dramatic. Maybe I cut it at the wrong angle, or maybe it was a cursed blade (Gillette razor, really, but let's use poetic diction, shall we?), but the poor thing bled for half an hour, rather copiously, before it finally slowed down, and I still can't type normally, because it still hurts a bit when I touch it. I took pictures of it, and sent them around to people so that they could appreciate the drama of the moment as well as I without having to go through the same ordeal. Cool and interesting as it was, I hope this won't happen every time I try to shave my legs. It would be a costly price to pay for the silky-smoothness we all so covet. Although winter is coming soon, so I won't really need to shave as much, because I'll always be wearing tights. Then again, maybe I should, just in case my hallmates and I decide to have a naked pillow fight or something. Those are common occurrences in college, aren't they? That and beer pong, and both of those activities might well culminate in everyone seeing me strip, so perhaps I'd better shave anyway, just to be on the safe side. Now I sound like a gross gorilla. Oh dear. Well, nothing to do about that. It's a way of life, and it is natural and beautiful for all its naturalness.
Yesterday, I went to the local church again. It's really the African-American church, so I feel like a bit of a cultural appropriator, but where else am I supposed to go? Everyone is so nice and friendly, and I love the music, and they are very vigilant about helping students, so it really seems like the best option. Also, it's the church in charge of the church school where I'm going to start the CKC– Ohio branch program, so that's a deciding factor right there too. But anyway, where was I? Oh yes. So I went there, and everyone was so nice, and the pastor from whom I got a ride last week invited me to lunch again, but at a different person's house this time, so I went along. It was really awkward, but it was tolerably so, and I got free food, so I didn't have to buy dinner, so that was nice. It was really good food too, and they gave me a whole lot of it. Very nice of them, I do appreciate it. The kids are all so cute too! They keep talking to me and wanting to play with me and all. That one little girl from the potluck last week saw me at church and came running up to give me a hug, and it was so cute. Maybe I can be a mom yet.
Man, I'm sleepy. Why is that? I got enough sleep yesterday, I think, and I didn't get up early today or anything (quite the opposite, in fact), and I got coffee to boot. Maybe it's the weather. It's kind of hot, but it's also cloudy and drowsy, and it's four in the afternoon, which is a sleepy time, so that's probably all. I don't have narcolepsy, no, not at all. Don't gotta worry about that. But you know, my sleep schedule is really messed up. I should probably sort that out before the semester gets into full swing. What if I go to bed when Melissa does, at the unreasonably early hour of 11:00? I don't even know if I'd be able to fall asleep that early. I could try, I guess. But then I couldn't talk to my babe. So that would be a detriment to my psyche and quality of life overall. Oh dear, whatever shall I do? I must figure this out someday. I can't let my poor sleep hygiene interfere with my schoolwork. So far, it's not done so, but I feel like I might sleep in one morning and miss my classes (all of them) and then I'll fall behind and not be able to catch up and fail the semester and have to go to Compton Community College after all. And that's not as unfounded a fear as you might think. My logic class moves extremely fast, and no matter how easily I can grasp the concepts once I'm taught them, I still couldn't figure them out myself if I missed a lecture. Opera, too, moves fast, and in Lit, it's important not to miss anything, because it all comes back to haunt you in recitation. Now, if I skipped a couple of those two horrible humanities scholars' classes, I think I would be impacting my life in quite a positive way, but unfortunately, attendance is a big part of the grade in both, so I can't skip more than one, and I want to save that one for when I'm lying on my deathbed, diseased and delirious and unable to get out of my dorm. I hate those classes so much though, not just because they preclude me from taking choir or another academic class, but because they're full of horrible people, and they're boring and useless and promulgate values which are detrimental to the well-being of society as a whole. I mean, they preach oneness of our own little tight-knit community, but they exclude outsiders, and they don't care about what happens to anyone on the outside. In fact, there's an undercurrent of the Puritan saints-vs-strangers going on, and it's positively primeval. Shouldn't we be past that sort of thing by now? Homeless people don't exist to be the butt of your jokes, and neither do ethnic minorities, or women, or anyone else, for that matter. It makes me really uncomfortable to hear the stuff they come up with, and it's troubling to realize that everyone else is buying into either the white-savior complex or the idea of the elect, or both, and we're about to unleash a whole horde of socialite justice warriors onto the world. But if I don't willingly help with their soirees and zombie movie parties and self-congratulatory meetings and sundry other means of bettering the world around them, I'll fail the classes, and won't get my 4.0 and life will be ruined forever. So I have to do this stuff, and pretend I like it. UGH.
Where was I before I started in on the Privilege Power Party? I'm not sure. Well, I suppose I better start off anew. So, what shall I get for dinner today? I can go to the Union across the street, but I'm really not sure about the state of the Union sometimes (zing), because they never seem to have anything that someone would want to eat. I could also go to the so-called Marketplace on Neil street, but that place is further away, and it's always crowded, and I hate getting food in crowds, especially by myself. I could seek out another of those places that take food blocks, but they all close ridiculously early on weekends (for some strange reason), so I don't know if I'd be able to find one in time. This is all so difficult! Maybe I will forego dinner tonight. I mean, I had actual food for breakfast instead of just coffee (admittedly, it was just a donut, but you know), so perhaps I can last the day. What do you think? Or maybe I can go mug some little freshmen and steal their lunch money. Wait, I am a little freshman. I guess I could try my luck at the local high school then.
The Tchaikovsky violin concerto is one of the most perfect pieces of music ever written. Or at least that's what I think whenever I hear it (as I am doing now). How did he do it? What was his secret? It makes me melt every time (which, I realize, is quite a weird way of putting it, but I am nothing if not a corporeal representation of eccentricity), and I only wish that someday I could create something so beautiful. I've played the Canzonetta, but I didn't do it justice. I wish someday I could play the whole thing and play it like it should be played. It's a work of art, it really is!
It's only 94 days until I go home! It seems like forever, though. I hope it goes by quickly. There are parts of this life I like, but then there are parts of my other life I miss overwhelmingly (i.e Austin), and it'll be so nice to go home and see my family and friends again and take normal showers and eat enough food and sleep until the cows come home, and not feel awkward at every turn, and have time to read as much as I want, and have a beautiful life! I am so excited, you don't even know. I feel like it will be hard for me to leave, though. I think I'll do some transfer applications when they come out, just in case I feel like transferring, and just in case we can afford it. I would have to start over again at the new school, but that's okay, isn't it? I've done it once, I can do it again. I would feel like such a wimp, though. So maybe that would haunt me all my life. I dunno. I guess we'll see!
Okay, I don't feel tired anymore, but now I feel like going out to fight dragons and raise hell, and I don't know if that's any better. I mean, what hell is there to raise around here? I guess I could go around punching people in the throats, but somehow that doesn't seem very polite. I dunno. What if I damaged their vocal chords permanently? Maybe I should start an anarchist group or something. That's what people do when they're restless, right? I could wear my leather jacket and boots and stomp around yelling obscenities at anyone or anything I deem to be evocative of "the man," and everyone will love me. Well, no, that would go against the point of my movement, but they will love the freedom I will bring to the world. Live free or die!
Oh, that's right, Melissa is out at a retreat for her glee club, and it's going to last until 8, so maybe I should get food before then so I can eat it in private. How long do you think it will take me to get food? Probably about half an hour, right? And then it'll take me about an hour to eat it (because I'm pretty sure I could get a Guiness world record in slow eating), so I should probably leave at about 6 or 6:30. Wow, that's really early. I don't like eating so early. Oh well. I'd rather eat early and be unreasonably and distractingly hungry at night than eat with people around. So there we go. I wish I were normal, I sure do.
Okay, I should probably do some political science stuff here. I have to take a quiz, and before I do it, I want to review my notes so that I'll keep up my record of perfect scores. Let's go, Jasmine! You can do this! Time to think about international relations. I really like the course, by the way. It's very interesting. I don't like that it's online, but I like the material, so it all balances out in the end! Okay, time to go. Bye now!
Blehhh, speaking of which, I miss my Austin so much. I made the mistake of downloading Next Year, which is the first sing he sang to me, and now I can't listen to it without getting sad. I also listened to I Don't Wanna Miss a Thing and all these other songs and now I'm all melancholy. I feel really sappy, but what can you do? I'm listening to Carry On Wayward Son now; hopefully that will put me into a better frame of mind so I can go take care of the errands I need to do without wandering along in a gloomy haze, absent-mindedly singing Two Door Cinema Club to myself, and getting weird looks from everyone around me, which I will ignore because I will be so lost in my malaise. I feel like that might garner a bit of Durko-hood here, and that's something I definitely don't need.
Okay, when this song is done, I'll go out and mail my checks, and be productive. I guess Melissa will just have to find her own way into our room, because I sure as shootin' ain't gonna leave it unlocked like she does. I have a lot of stuff in here, and I don't want to have any of it stolen, you feel me? I mean, how would I live without my Daisy Bell? And my violin is pretty important. And okay, what if some destitute wrangler decided to come in and help herself to all my panties so she wouldn't have to buy her own? That wouldn't be a very good turn of events. It would make me feel like quite the scarlet woman to go about campus with nothing between me and the breeze.
Okay, I'm back! I went out to do my errand, and then I decided to explore the math building on the way back to my dorm. Let me tell you, it's quite the magical place (or should I say "mathical?"), replete with graphs built into the floor tiles and a marble sculpture of a Fibonacci spiral in the foyer. It was almost completely deserted, though, so it was a little scary to walk around in there by myself, even though I did have my key in my hand to puncture the puncturable parts of anyone who tried to accost me. I wish I'd been able to bring my pocket knife with me on the plane. It would have made me feel safer. Walking around by myself is quite the scary ordeal, I'll have you know, and though I've been hit on too many times to count and have walked away to tell the tale, I'm always sure that each time I go out carelessly will be my last. I don't think I would feel as nervous if I were at a different school, but this one is known for its animalistic football players, and I'm never sure who has good intentions and who doesn't. Man, I gotta get me a cannon. Then I can wheel it around with me wherever I go, and no one will dare to come close to me. Everyone can call me Jasmine the Cannon or The Loose Cannon or Cannon in D(efeat), or something witty like that, and I will gain the respect of everyone on campus. But in the meantime, I just carry my key with me, and hope that I can protect myself with it.
I sliced my finger open on Friday. It was very dramatic. Maybe I cut it at the wrong angle, or maybe it was a cursed blade (Gillette razor, really, but let's use poetic diction, shall we?), but the poor thing bled for half an hour, rather copiously, before it finally slowed down, and I still can't type normally, because it still hurts a bit when I touch it. I took pictures of it, and sent them around to people so that they could appreciate the drama of the moment as well as I without having to go through the same ordeal. Cool and interesting as it was, I hope this won't happen every time I try to shave my legs. It would be a costly price to pay for the silky-smoothness we all so covet. Although winter is coming soon, so I won't really need to shave as much, because I'll always be wearing tights. Then again, maybe I should, just in case my hallmates and I decide to have a naked pillow fight or something. Those are common occurrences in college, aren't they? That and beer pong, and both of those activities might well culminate in everyone seeing me strip, so perhaps I'd better shave anyway, just to be on the safe side. Now I sound like a gross gorilla. Oh dear. Well, nothing to do about that. It's a way of life, and it is natural and beautiful for all its naturalness.
Yesterday, I went to the local church again. It's really the African-American church, so I feel like a bit of a cultural appropriator, but where else am I supposed to go? Everyone is so nice and friendly, and I love the music, and they are very vigilant about helping students, so it really seems like the best option. Also, it's the church in charge of the church school where I'm going to start the CKC– Ohio branch program, so that's a deciding factor right there too. But anyway, where was I? Oh yes. So I went there, and everyone was so nice, and the pastor from whom I got a ride last week invited me to lunch again, but at a different person's house this time, so I went along. It was really awkward, but it was tolerably so, and I got free food, so I didn't have to buy dinner, so that was nice. It was really good food too, and they gave me a whole lot of it. Very nice of them, I do appreciate it. The kids are all so cute too! They keep talking to me and wanting to play with me and all. That one little girl from the potluck last week saw me at church and came running up to give me a hug, and it was so cute. Maybe I can be a mom yet.
Man, I'm sleepy. Why is that? I got enough sleep yesterday, I think, and I didn't get up early today or anything (quite the opposite, in fact), and I got coffee to boot. Maybe it's the weather. It's kind of hot, but it's also cloudy and drowsy, and it's four in the afternoon, which is a sleepy time, so that's probably all. I don't have narcolepsy, no, not at all. Don't gotta worry about that. But you know, my sleep schedule is really messed up. I should probably sort that out before the semester gets into full swing. What if I go to bed when Melissa does, at the unreasonably early hour of 11:00? I don't even know if I'd be able to fall asleep that early. I could try, I guess. But then I couldn't talk to my babe. So that would be a detriment to my psyche and quality of life overall. Oh dear, whatever shall I do? I must figure this out someday. I can't let my poor sleep hygiene interfere with my schoolwork. So far, it's not done so, but I feel like I might sleep in one morning and miss my classes (all of them) and then I'll fall behind and not be able to catch up and fail the semester and have to go to Compton Community College after all. And that's not as unfounded a fear as you might think. My logic class moves extremely fast, and no matter how easily I can grasp the concepts once I'm taught them, I still couldn't figure them out myself if I missed a lecture. Opera, too, moves fast, and in Lit, it's important not to miss anything, because it all comes back to haunt you in recitation. Now, if I skipped a couple of those two horrible humanities scholars' classes, I think I would be impacting my life in quite a positive way, but unfortunately, attendance is a big part of the grade in both, so I can't skip more than one, and I want to save that one for when I'm lying on my deathbed, diseased and delirious and unable to get out of my dorm. I hate those classes so much though, not just because they preclude me from taking choir or another academic class, but because they're full of horrible people, and they're boring and useless and promulgate values which are detrimental to the well-being of society as a whole. I mean, they preach oneness of our own little tight-knit community, but they exclude outsiders, and they don't care about what happens to anyone on the outside. In fact, there's an undercurrent of the Puritan saints-vs-strangers going on, and it's positively primeval. Shouldn't we be past that sort of thing by now? Homeless people don't exist to be the butt of your jokes, and neither do ethnic minorities, or women, or anyone else, for that matter. It makes me really uncomfortable to hear the stuff they come up with, and it's troubling to realize that everyone else is buying into either the white-savior complex or the idea of the elect, or both, and we're about to unleash a whole horde of socialite justice warriors onto the world. But if I don't willingly help with their soirees and zombie movie parties and self-congratulatory meetings and sundry other means of bettering the world around them, I'll fail the classes, and won't get my 4.0 and life will be ruined forever. So I have to do this stuff, and pretend I like it. UGH.
Where was I before I started in on the Privilege Power Party? I'm not sure. Well, I suppose I better start off anew. So, what shall I get for dinner today? I can go to the Union across the street, but I'm really not sure about the state of the Union sometimes (zing), because they never seem to have anything that someone would want to eat. I could also go to the so-called Marketplace on Neil street, but that place is further away, and it's always crowded, and I hate getting food in crowds, especially by myself. I could seek out another of those places that take food blocks, but they all close ridiculously early on weekends (for some strange reason), so I don't know if I'd be able to find one in time. This is all so difficult! Maybe I will forego dinner tonight. I mean, I had actual food for breakfast instead of just coffee (admittedly, it was just a donut, but you know), so perhaps I can last the day. What do you think? Or maybe I can go mug some little freshmen and steal their lunch money. Wait, I am a little freshman. I guess I could try my luck at the local high school then.
The Tchaikovsky violin concerto is one of the most perfect pieces of music ever written. Or at least that's what I think whenever I hear it (as I am doing now). How did he do it? What was his secret? It makes me melt every time (which, I realize, is quite a weird way of putting it, but I am nothing if not a corporeal representation of eccentricity), and I only wish that someday I could create something so beautiful. I've played the Canzonetta, but I didn't do it justice. I wish someday I could play the whole thing and play it like it should be played. It's a work of art, it really is!
It's only 94 days until I go home! It seems like forever, though. I hope it goes by quickly. There are parts of this life I like, but then there are parts of my other life I miss overwhelmingly (i.e Austin), and it'll be so nice to go home and see my family and friends again and take normal showers and eat enough food and sleep until the cows come home, and not feel awkward at every turn, and have time to read as much as I want, and have a beautiful life! I am so excited, you don't even know. I feel like it will be hard for me to leave, though. I think I'll do some transfer applications when they come out, just in case I feel like transferring, and just in case we can afford it. I would have to start over again at the new school, but that's okay, isn't it? I've done it once, I can do it again. I would feel like such a wimp, though. So maybe that would haunt me all my life. I dunno. I guess we'll see!
Okay, I don't feel tired anymore, but now I feel like going out to fight dragons and raise hell, and I don't know if that's any better. I mean, what hell is there to raise around here? I guess I could go around punching people in the throats, but somehow that doesn't seem very polite. I dunno. What if I damaged their vocal chords permanently? Maybe I should start an anarchist group or something. That's what people do when they're restless, right? I could wear my leather jacket and boots and stomp around yelling obscenities at anyone or anything I deem to be evocative of "the man," and everyone will love me. Well, no, that would go against the point of my movement, but they will love the freedom I will bring to the world. Live free or die!
Oh, that's right, Melissa is out at a retreat for her glee club, and it's going to last until 8, so maybe I should get food before then so I can eat it in private. How long do you think it will take me to get food? Probably about half an hour, right? And then it'll take me about an hour to eat it (because I'm pretty sure I could get a Guiness world record in slow eating), so I should probably leave at about 6 or 6:30. Wow, that's really early. I don't like eating so early. Oh well. I'd rather eat early and be unreasonably and distractingly hungry at night than eat with people around. So there we go. I wish I were normal, I sure do.
Okay, I should probably do some political science stuff here. I have to take a quiz, and before I do it, I want to review my notes so that I'll keep up my record of perfect scores. Let's go, Jasmine! You can do this! Time to think about international relations. I really like the course, by the way. It's very interesting. I don't like that it's online, but I like the material, so it all balances out in the end! Okay, time to go. Bye now!
Wednesday, September 4, 2013
I am the night
Good morning Baltimore!
I mean, it technically is morning, so that's okay, and correct. I guess I'm not really in Baltimore though. Maybe I'm there metaphorically. Do you think Baltimore could be a state of mind? I'm not really sure what goes down there, though. I know there's a sports team. They are Orioles. So perhaps my mind is taking wing and my heart is singing. How poetic! I really got it goin on.
La la. Music makes me happy. I downloaded an entire AC/DC album, and I'm very pleased with it. It's Back in Black; who wouldn't be pleased with it? But man, rock makes me feel like the value of the US debt! I want to go out and dance in the moonlight and offend every single passerby with my inelegant moves. I might get my scholarship revoked, and I might get booted back to California, and I might be taken to prison for the color of my hair, but in the end, I will have expressed my soul, so like Edna Pontellier, I will have reached the pinnacle of life. Wow, I'm really weird. This is why I have no friends.
I went to the library today (again). Actually, I went twice. I think it's a magic place in there, because time goes by in the blink in the eye, and next thing you know, you're late to class! This happened to me twice, incidentally, ever since I discovered the language and literature floor yesterday. The first time, I was reading a book on Rococo literature, and I got so distracted by the distinction between the age of Fragonard and the age of not-Fragonard that I didn't realize how much time had gone by, and I was late to Linguistics and had to sit between two huge dudes in the back who completely obscured my view. Then, the second time, which was right before Logic and Formal Reasoning (I'ma just call it Logic for convenience, okay?) this afternoon, I found a shelf full of Moliére, and sat me down to partake. I was halfway through The Misanthrope when I realized I had six minutes to get to class, and I had to go clear across the large central expanse generally called the Oval here. So I booked it, and I actually got there earlier than the other linguistics major in the class. Maybe being good at language makes you bad at directions. They were still discussing the homework, which to the best of my knowledge, I did very well on, so that was all cool. But maybe I should stop going to the literature floor between classes. Actually, I should probably avoid the politics and philosophy floor too, if I really want to be on the safe side. I found the philosophy today, and it's really my Nietzsche; I'm so excited I just Kant contain my joy! Those were funny, what are you talking about? No, but really, I was reading Nietzsche, and it was fun, and I only got out on time because Austin reminded me. You know the silly boy called me this morning to say good morning and make sure I was awake, even though it was 5:30 there? He's a doofus. It was so lovely to wake up to his voice though. Bleh, I'm such a sentimentalist. Gotta think about other stuff, like medical maryjoowanna. That's not sentimental, right?
I love my Logic class! It's my favorite, I think. I feel so rejuvenated when I leave, and I never have trouble paying attention while I'm in there. It's so interesting, and it expands my mind, I think! We're only studying the very beginning, so I don't comprehend the full scope or difficulty yet, but it's like calculus mixed with linguistics, so I don't have to trip up on algebra, but I can use the left side of my brain and do the whole math class workout that is always so stimulating for humanities people like me. Now, I really don't want to sound like a jerk, or pretentious or anything, but I really feel like I'm doing okay in the class. I understand the concepts before the professor is done explaining them, usually, and if I get stuck on something, it's something everyone else is stuck on, so I can still grasp it without trouble, because the professor goes back and explains it more thoroughly. And I don't want to sound conceited, and I feel like I probably will, but the other people in my class aren't as quick on the draw as I thought they'd be. I mean, they're all upperclassmen except for me and these two other guys, and they seem smart, but they show remarkably little ability to grasp the ideas. One guy, in particular, sits in front of the class, and asks the silliest questions, in quite a rude manner, by the way, and it's frankly surprising that he's so lost. I mean, it's not like it's really difficult stuff yet! The other freshman in the class (well one of the two), Bryan, is incredibly cute too. He has nice blond hair and pretty blue eyes and a cute dorky smile, and he's so smart! I often think we're the only two who get the stuff immediately, and he takes the same kind of notes as I do, and with the same kind of ink pen! We sit next to each other in class (or we have been so far), and it makes me happy to see him every day. It's meant to be, it's love, what can you do. Sorry Austin, I've found my new man.
I'm so kidding it's not even funny. I've never seen anyone yet who could compare to my babe, and I don't even want to. What's wrong with me? Ughgghghg. Anyway! He's my babe! Do you know that song? Well, it's She's My Babe, really, but let us appropriate it, shall we? I love it. It's by AC/DC, but it's unreleased. And yeah, that's the way the wind blows.
I should really go to bed. I keep hearing all these weird noises, and they may be our refrigerator, and they may be our fan, and they may be Melissa making noisome motions in her sleep, but it's best not to take chances, am I right? I am. So I will go to bed and be safe under my comforter, which I can use now, because the weather has undergone a dramatic change, and is bearable for the first time since I've been here. I actually wore a sweater yesterday, and I felt like such a student. That's what students wear, right? Today was warmer, but it wasn't humid, and every strand of hair on my head rejoiced with the voice of gladness. And now it's chilly. So I'm happy about this turn of affairs, really! Okay, time to get me some sleep! Goodnight!
I mean, it technically is morning, so that's okay, and correct. I guess I'm not really in Baltimore though. Maybe I'm there metaphorically. Do you think Baltimore could be a state of mind? I'm not really sure what goes down there, though. I know there's a sports team. They are Orioles. So perhaps my mind is taking wing and my heart is singing. How poetic! I really got it goin on.
La la. Music makes me happy. I downloaded an entire AC/DC album, and I'm very pleased with it. It's Back in Black; who wouldn't be pleased with it? But man, rock makes me feel like the value of the US debt! I want to go out and dance in the moonlight and offend every single passerby with my inelegant moves. I might get my scholarship revoked, and I might get booted back to California, and I might be taken to prison for the color of my hair, but in the end, I will have expressed my soul, so like Edna Pontellier, I will have reached the pinnacle of life. Wow, I'm really weird. This is why I have no friends.
I went to the library today (again). Actually, I went twice. I think it's a magic place in there, because time goes by in the blink in the eye, and next thing you know, you're late to class! This happened to me twice, incidentally, ever since I discovered the language and literature floor yesterday. The first time, I was reading a book on Rococo literature, and I got so distracted by the distinction between the age of Fragonard and the age of not-Fragonard that I didn't realize how much time had gone by, and I was late to Linguistics and had to sit between two huge dudes in the back who completely obscured my view. Then, the second time, which was right before Logic and Formal Reasoning (I'ma just call it Logic for convenience, okay?) this afternoon, I found a shelf full of Moliére, and sat me down to partake. I was halfway through The Misanthrope when I realized I had six minutes to get to class, and I had to go clear across the large central expanse generally called the Oval here. So I booked it, and I actually got there earlier than the other linguistics major in the class. Maybe being good at language makes you bad at directions. They were still discussing the homework, which to the best of my knowledge, I did very well on, so that was all cool. But maybe I should stop going to the literature floor between classes. Actually, I should probably avoid the politics and philosophy floor too, if I really want to be on the safe side. I found the philosophy today, and it's really my Nietzsche; I'm so excited I just Kant contain my joy! Those were funny, what are you talking about? No, but really, I was reading Nietzsche, and it was fun, and I only got out on time because Austin reminded me. You know the silly boy called me this morning to say good morning and make sure I was awake, even though it was 5:30 there? He's a doofus. It was so lovely to wake up to his voice though. Bleh, I'm such a sentimentalist. Gotta think about other stuff, like medical maryjoowanna. That's not sentimental, right?
I love my Logic class! It's my favorite, I think. I feel so rejuvenated when I leave, and I never have trouble paying attention while I'm in there. It's so interesting, and it expands my mind, I think! We're only studying the very beginning, so I don't comprehend the full scope or difficulty yet, but it's like calculus mixed with linguistics, so I don't have to trip up on algebra, but I can use the left side of my brain and do the whole math class workout that is always so stimulating for humanities people like me. Now, I really don't want to sound like a jerk, or pretentious or anything, but I really feel like I'm doing okay in the class. I understand the concepts before the professor is done explaining them, usually, and if I get stuck on something, it's something everyone else is stuck on, so I can still grasp it without trouble, because the professor goes back and explains it more thoroughly. And I don't want to sound conceited, and I feel like I probably will, but the other people in my class aren't as quick on the draw as I thought they'd be. I mean, they're all upperclassmen except for me and these two other guys, and they seem smart, but they show remarkably little ability to grasp the ideas. One guy, in particular, sits in front of the class, and asks the silliest questions, in quite a rude manner, by the way, and it's frankly surprising that he's so lost. I mean, it's not like it's really difficult stuff yet! The other freshman in the class (well one of the two), Bryan, is incredibly cute too. He has nice blond hair and pretty blue eyes and a cute dorky smile, and he's so smart! I often think we're the only two who get the stuff immediately, and he takes the same kind of notes as I do, and with the same kind of ink pen! We sit next to each other in class (or we have been so far), and it makes me happy to see him every day. It's meant to be, it's love, what can you do. Sorry Austin, I've found my new man.
I'm so kidding it's not even funny. I've never seen anyone yet who could compare to my babe, and I don't even want to. What's wrong with me? Ughgghghg. Anyway! He's my babe! Do you know that song? Well, it's She's My Babe, really, but let us appropriate it, shall we? I love it. It's by AC/DC, but it's unreleased. And yeah, that's the way the wind blows.
I should really go to bed. I keep hearing all these weird noises, and they may be our refrigerator, and they may be our fan, and they may be Melissa making noisome motions in her sleep, but it's best not to take chances, am I right? I am. So I will go to bed and be safe under my comforter, which I can use now, because the weather has undergone a dramatic change, and is bearable for the first time since I've been here. I actually wore a sweater yesterday, and I felt like such a student. That's what students wear, right? Today was warmer, but it wasn't humid, and every strand of hair on my head rejoiced with the voice of gladness. And now it's chilly. So I'm happy about this turn of affairs, really! Okay, time to get me some sleep! Goodnight!
Monday, September 2, 2013
It's Labor Day
My appearances on here are so erratic, bless my soul. It's not good for the documentation of my fascinating life, and now the masses will never know of the wonder of my time spent on this mortal frame. I mean in this mortal frame. Exactly. Anyway, my roommate's mom came over yesterday, and I didn't want to be in the way, so I left and wandered all over campus (i.e went to the library) but when I came back, they were gone, so I had the room to myself all night. So I went on Skype and talked to Austin until four in the morning. I make good life choices, what are you talking about? So then I got up this afternoon morning, and Melissa still wasn't back. I was just about ready to have a happy lonely day, but then she and her mom walked in, and they stayed for three hours. It was a terribly awkward time for me. I went on Facebook and I went on Tumblr, and I texted my baby, and I drank my Starbucks, and I acted like an annoying California stereotype, and I still couldn't dispel the awkward feelings. Man, looking back on that time now, I'm still not sure how I survived. There are times in a person's life when it just all goes to pieces, and all you can do is hold on to hope. Really, I should be a writer or something; that was just prose-entable on all levels! What was I saying before I went all Stephen Crane though? Oh yes. So now Melissa and Mrs. Melissa are gone, and I have the place to myself again. I need to do laundry, but that's such a pain. Bleh. I'm not good at these sorts of things, and everyone else is, and then I feel ashamed of my erudite ineptitude. I'm like one of those flaky professors who knows about the differences in the pre-Hellenic periods (which I do, incidentally), but who is incapable of boiling water by herself. Maybe I will learn someday. I could take a class on it. I'm sure they have them here, like Living 101 or How to Not Die 1172. It could go toward my Arts and Culture GE because surviving is an art nowadays. Speaking of which (kind of) (well, not really), Austin is quite the little housewife. It's adorable. He taught me how to do my laundry, and he knows all these helpful and practical things, like cooking, and fixing stuff, and not dying, and all those useful little tricks of the trade. Apparently, he does all the shopping and cleaning and laundry and cooking and stuff in his house, and he has been for years. He says that if we get married, he'll take care of me, and I'll get the more fun job of bringing home the bacon and wearing three-piece suits and making important calls on my earpiece, and I think it's just so darling! Cause it's not what you would expect when you look at him, you know? He looks like a member of a Korean boy band, like I mean he literally looks like one, and he's all popular and sexy and all that, but then there are so many plot twists to his personality! He's really a nerd, and he's extremely good at Yugioh, and he's as afraid of people as I am, and he's really like me! Well, sort of. He's more stereotypically girly than I am, though. Which is really saying something. In the morning, I roll out of bed, grab the first outfit I see, brush my hair and my teeth, and go, and it takes me about five minutes. He has to shower, put on toner (and goodness knows what else), straighten his hair, put on different products, fix his hair, pick out a coordinated outfit, and who knows what all, and it takes him forever to get ready when he wants to go somewhere. I don't love bugs or anything, but I'm not scared of them, and I'm okay with fishing spiders out of the shower and putting them outside. He's scared of them, however, and hates seeing them in his house, no matter if they're ants, wasps, daddy-long-legs, or whatever. He listens to kpop, Adele, and all that sort of thing, and is always stressing about either getting fat or getting too skinny, and he has pretty decorations and air fresheners in his immaculately clean car. His blog, as I've probably already mentioned, looks like the stereotypical Forever 21-wearing, concert-going, Starbucks-drinking white LA girl's, and basically, yeah, he's really girly. And it's so cute. ♥ If we got married and had kids, they would probably be rugged, macho, beer-swilling, tree-cutting, badass individuals in sheer rebellion against their parents. Which is okay, I mean, as long as they keep up their grades and don't get into any really bad trouble, I don't care. I don't want kids though, so that's kind of a moot point. Actually I think he does though, because he keeps talking about it, like, why are you doing this Austin, we're 18, we're supposed to be partying and reading Nietzche and drinking Pabst Blue Ribbon and not giving a single bother about anything but ourselves, and definitely not planning our weddings. But you know I like him anyway.
Oh dear, I gushed again. Darn it! I am like Ottone in Poppea; I keep coming back to the same place. Hopefully that place won't end in eternal banishment, though.
I've started downloading music into my iTunes now. I lost it all when I switched to Daisy Bell, because I couldn't figure out how to transfer the files from one computer to the other (did someone say flaky professor again), and since I pirated all my music in the first place, I couldn't use the iTunes store to get it back. So now I have to download everything again. It's quite the daunting task. But at the same time, it's fun. I get to make everything just the way I want it, and be organized this time around, since last time, I just put things everywhere and had no really good filing system. But now I have a specific place for my classical music, and for my embarrassing music, and for my other music, and it's all so nice and neat. And no one's using my computer except for me, so I can put anything I want in there without fear of shame and ridicule! It will be great! I still barely have anything in there, though.
Ugh, for some reason, my silly brain has connected I Don't Wanna Miss a Thing by Aerosmith to Austin, so every time I hear it (as I am right now; it came on shuffle), it makes me miss him, and it's like carrying the One Ring to Mordor, and ugh. I feel bad for the people around me, actually, cuz whenever Melissa is gone (which is frequently), I sing along with careless abandon to whatever song happens to be playing, unless it's an opera aria, but I fear I will get to that point soon as well. I hope Brianne and Kelly like AC/DC, because if not, I'ma be facing a hallway lawsuit sometime in the near future! That would be interesting, actually. We could hold court on the basketball court, and the RAs could be the jury, and the building director could be the judge. The plaintiffs could have their witnesses, and I could have mine (Austin over Skype, probably), and we could hire some attorneys from the law school, and it would be a good chance for me to practice my legal bearing without pressure! Well, I guess there would be some pressure, because if I lost, I would be kicked out of the building and have to live like some kind of Dickinsonian orphan on 12th Street, alone and miserable, without wifi or a place to charge my phone or anything to offer me succor in the cold nights of winter. Maybe the performing arts department could get some mileage out of me, but I feel like the situation would be less than ideal, even if I were immortalized in a object d' art forever.
Oops, Melissa is back. Time to go!
Okay, she's gone again. Now I can watch Supernatural and eat my food. I saved a few leftovers from yesterday, because I knew that since today was Labor Day, I wouldn't be able to buy much stuff (the stores around here that take my Buck ID are all so cursedly patriotic that they observe federal holidays, I mean what's up with that), and I think that's very clever. I am a college student and none can deny.
Okay, here I am. So now I have to take a shower, but I don't want to. I'm too lazy. And I absolutely hate taking showers here. There's black mold in there, I'm pretty sure, and it's only a matter of time before some curious soul decides to pull back the flimsy curtain and is greeted by the dubious pleasure of my butt bouncing to and fro to the beat of whichever classic rock song I've decided to perform that night. So I always try to shower when there's no one in there, but the problem is that there always seems to be someone in there. I've gone in at about 11:30 (which it is now) and I've gone in at almost 2, but no matter what, there is an intrepid bathroom-goer in there with me, brushing her hair, teeth, mustache, ego, or whatever strikes her fancy at the present time. I don't know what to do about it. Maybe I will get used to it someday, but today is not that day.
So, what do you say we watch another episode of Supernatural, huh? Well, no, actually, I can't, because Netflix is bugging out, and it's very annoying. I don't know what I'm going to do. How will I live without my shows? Well, show. I don't really have time for anything but the one. I tried to watch Sherlock, and I liked it, but the episodes are so long that I have to watch them in several sittings, and circumstances always got in my way. Although, I usually watch about three episodes of Supernatural in a row, and that's longer than one episode of Sherlock would be, so maybe I should give it another whirl. Only if Netflix gets its act together though.
I have a Linguistics quiz tomorrow. I already know the stuff, but I really should study a bit just to be sure I have it down pat. And then I have to do my laundry. I've been meaning to all weekend, but somehow, I've never gotten around to it. And that's pretty bad, actually, cuz I'm running out of panties, and what am I going to do without that vital staple in my wardrobe? Maybe I could fashion makeshift diapers out of paper towels and safety pins, but I feel like that would be about as stable as Napoleon's Russian empire, and could lead to potential embarrassment for me and for all the innocent nerds in my classes. So perchance I really should do my laundry. I think that would be a brilliant idea. But it's so late now, would it be really so bad to wait until tomorrow and then have the daylight to depend on? Actually, no, I think it would be smarter, really, because no one does his laundry on weekdays; everyone waits until the weekend. So if I go down there at about 6 tomorrow, I should be able to find a washing machine that isn't located two feet over my head like it was last time! That would be an improvement, and I could get the best possible outcome with the given set of circumstances! Now I'm thinking like a mathematician. This will help me in my logic class. Good job, Jasmine, you definitely got a head on your shoulders!
I feel like there's something vital I've forgotten to do, but I can't think of what it is. I suppose it may just be the general feeling of academic unease that so plagues AP students of every generation and tribe, but then again, it may be something worse, and I've no way to know for sure. Actually, wait, yes I have. I can check on the school website. I'm so smart! I should have gotten a bigger scholarship, yessirree, Ohio sure got a prize when they picked me! Okay, let's see here. Nope, I don't have anything new here! I'm good! I guess I do just have the Honors Malaise after all! I used the word "malaise" on my prose style essay on the Lit national exam, and I used it slightly wrong. Ugh. Didn't preclude me from getting a wonderful score anyway though, holla! So I suppose that's all right, really. It kind of irks me though. I hate using words wrong.
Oops, Melissa's back again. Bye now!
Oh dear, I gushed again. Darn it! I am like Ottone in Poppea; I keep coming back to the same place. Hopefully that place won't end in eternal banishment, though.
I've started downloading music into my iTunes now. I lost it all when I switched to Daisy Bell, because I couldn't figure out how to transfer the files from one computer to the other (did someone say flaky professor again), and since I pirated all my music in the first place, I couldn't use the iTunes store to get it back. So now I have to download everything again. It's quite the daunting task. But at the same time, it's fun. I get to make everything just the way I want it, and be organized this time around, since last time, I just put things everywhere and had no really good filing system. But now I have a specific place for my classical music, and for my embarrassing music, and for my other music, and it's all so nice and neat. And no one's using my computer except for me, so I can put anything I want in there without fear of shame and ridicule! It will be great! I still barely have anything in there, though.
Ugh, for some reason, my silly brain has connected I Don't Wanna Miss a Thing by Aerosmith to Austin, so every time I hear it (as I am right now; it came on shuffle), it makes me miss him, and it's like carrying the One Ring to Mordor, and ugh. I feel bad for the people around me, actually, cuz whenever Melissa is gone (which is frequently), I sing along with careless abandon to whatever song happens to be playing, unless it's an opera aria, but I fear I will get to that point soon as well. I hope Brianne and Kelly like AC/DC, because if not, I'ma be facing a hallway lawsuit sometime in the near future! That would be interesting, actually. We could hold court on the basketball court, and the RAs could be the jury, and the building director could be the judge. The plaintiffs could have their witnesses, and I could have mine (Austin over Skype, probably), and we could hire some attorneys from the law school, and it would be a good chance for me to practice my legal bearing without pressure! Well, I guess there would be some pressure, because if I lost, I would be kicked out of the building and have to live like some kind of Dickinsonian orphan on 12th Street, alone and miserable, without wifi or a place to charge my phone or anything to offer me succor in the cold nights of winter. Maybe the performing arts department could get some mileage out of me, but I feel like the situation would be less than ideal, even if I were immortalized in a object d' art forever.
Oops, Melissa is back. Time to go!
Okay, she's gone again. Now I can watch Supernatural and eat my food. I saved a few leftovers from yesterday, because I knew that since today was Labor Day, I wouldn't be able to buy much stuff (the stores around here that take my Buck ID are all so cursedly patriotic that they observe federal holidays, I mean what's up with that), and I think that's very clever. I am a college student and none can deny.
Okay, here I am. So now I have to take a shower, but I don't want to. I'm too lazy. And I absolutely hate taking showers here. There's black mold in there, I'm pretty sure, and it's only a matter of time before some curious soul decides to pull back the flimsy curtain and is greeted by the dubious pleasure of my butt bouncing to and fro to the beat of whichever classic rock song I've decided to perform that night. So I always try to shower when there's no one in there, but the problem is that there always seems to be someone in there. I've gone in at about 11:30 (which it is now) and I've gone in at almost 2, but no matter what, there is an intrepid bathroom-goer in there with me, brushing her hair, teeth, mustache, ego, or whatever strikes her fancy at the present time. I don't know what to do about it. Maybe I will get used to it someday, but today is not that day.
So, what do you say we watch another episode of Supernatural, huh? Well, no, actually, I can't, because Netflix is bugging out, and it's very annoying. I don't know what I'm going to do. How will I live without my shows? Well, show. I don't really have time for anything but the one. I tried to watch Sherlock, and I liked it, but the episodes are so long that I have to watch them in several sittings, and circumstances always got in my way. Although, I usually watch about three episodes of Supernatural in a row, and that's longer than one episode of Sherlock would be, so maybe I should give it another whirl. Only if Netflix gets its act together though.
I have a Linguistics quiz tomorrow. I already know the stuff, but I really should study a bit just to be sure I have it down pat. And then I have to do my laundry. I've been meaning to all weekend, but somehow, I've never gotten around to it. And that's pretty bad, actually, cuz I'm running out of panties, and what am I going to do without that vital staple in my wardrobe? Maybe I could fashion makeshift diapers out of paper towels and safety pins, but I feel like that would be about as stable as Napoleon's Russian empire, and could lead to potential embarrassment for me and for all the innocent nerds in my classes. So perchance I really should do my laundry. I think that would be a brilliant idea. But it's so late now, would it be really so bad to wait until tomorrow and then have the daylight to depend on? Actually, no, I think it would be smarter, really, because no one does his laundry on weekdays; everyone waits until the weekend. So if I go down there at about 6 tomorrow, I should be able to find a washing machine that isn't located two feet over my head like it was last time! That would be an improvement, and I could get the best possible outcome with the given set of circumstances! Now I'm thinking like a mathematician. This will help me in my logic class. Good job, Jasmine, you definitely got a head on your shoulders!
I feel like there's something vital I've forgotten to do, but I can't think of what it is. I suppose it may just be the general feeling of academic unease that so plagues AP students of every generation and tribe, but then again, it may be something worse, and I've no way to know for sure. Actually, wait, yes I have. I can check on the school website. I'm so smart! I should have gotten a bigger scholarship, yessirree, Ohio sure got a prize when they picked me! Okay, let's see here. Nope, I don't have anything new here! I'm good! I guess I do just have the Honors Malaise after all! I used the word "malaise" on my prose style essay on the Lit national exam, and I used it slightly wrong. Ugh. Didn't preclude me from getting a wonderful score anyway though, holla! So I suppose that's all right, really. It kind of irks me though. I hate using words wrong.
Oops, Melissa's back again. Bye now!
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